


Odd Eyes

by gayishimaru



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: AU where you have one of your Soulmate's Eyes, F/F, M/M, Mistaken Soulmates, Motorcycle Accidents, Multi, Nothing explicit, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Soulmate AU, Suicidal Thoughts, a giant chaotic heteronormative shitpile of a mistaken soulmate quadrangle, brief mentions of mondo's abusive parents, warning: there are some mentions of ishimaru selfharming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-19 02:12:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10630008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayishimaru/pseuds/gayishimaru
Summary: In a world where you have one of your Soulmate's eyes since birth, having unusual eye colours is surprisingly quite rare. Kiyotaka Ishimaru and Mondo Oowada are convinced that their Soulmates would be easy to spot- Red and Lavender aren't common eye colours at all....Until they get to Hope's Peak Academy, that is, and are greeted by what seems to be the Soulmates of their dreams: Kyouko Kirigiri and Celestia Ludenberg.But things are never that simple, are they?





	1. Kiyotaka Ishimaru, before the Academy

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multi-chapter fanfic I'm gonna be posting here! This chapter focuses on Kiyotaka Ishimaru's life before Hope's Peak, so the IshiMondo isn't really prevalent here. Next chapter will be Mondo's life before Hope's Peak, so the same thing would apply then. This chapter was beta-read by the lovely CharlotteML!
> 
> Warning for brief mentions of self harm and suicidal thoughts. There's nothing explicit, just hints. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!

Kiyotaka was positive his nose was broken.

He’d never broken his nose before, but he could tell from its new crooked angle, and from the blood gushing out of it like a geyser, that _something_ was wrong with it. He didn’t really mind the pain though. His nose was fixable- just a cast or something and it’d be fine in a couple months. He considered himself lucky he hadn’t _died-_ not that he thought his classmates would ever kill him! They were just 8th graders, after all… they were just… play fighting.

It was a small miracle that none of them had gone for his eyes. If they’d given him a black eye, he’d have to take off his Eyepatch to see through his Eye, and that would be horribly taboo! And if his classmates thought his piercing red one was odd, he shuddered to think what they’d make of his almost white, milky-purple Eye.

Kiyotaka sniffed, bending over to pick up his scattered school supplies. Good, they’d forgotten to rip up his History assignment, so he wouldn’t have to ask for an extension on that… The only casualties were his uniform (bloodstained), his lunch (currently in one of his classmates’ stomachs), and his pencil case (torn to pieces; contents stolen). Should he count himself as a casualty? He didn’t have any _serious_ injuries, so his father wouldn’t have to pay for hospital fees. On the other hand, he’d need a new uniform and new writing utensils…

Kiyotaka placed his surviving supplies in his backpack, shrugging it over his shoulders before walking off to the school nurse. Matsumiya-sensei _should_ be able to set his nose, and then he could report his attackers (Torisei-kun, Shimakage-kun, and Tokudome-kun) to the disciplinary committee. Hopefully, he’d get it all done before the lunch period ended.

His classmates stared at him as he passed, but he paid them little attention. If he let them know that he was hurt by their assaults, they’d see him as an easier target! Ignoring them was the best action for now, until he could reprimand his attackers in detention. Kiyotaka knocked on the door to Matsumiya-sensei’s office, waiting patiently for the nurse to return.

After around 5 minutes (time well spent treating someone _far_ more important than him, Kiyotaka thought), Matsumiya-sensei opened the door, sighing slightly when she saw Kiyotaka waiting for her.

“Bullies got you again, Kiyo-” she began, but cut herself off with a small gasp, “Kiyotaka-kun, what are you doing without your Eyepatch?!”

Kiyotaka froze, fingers wandering up to prod at his right eye. Oh no. _Oh no._

They couldn’t have stolen his Eyepatch- that had been in his family for _generations!_ His _grandfather_ had worn that very same Eyepatch before he’d met his Soulmate- it was quite possibly the most important relic of the Ishimaru family! And he’d foolishly gone and landed himself in a scuffle and had _lost it!_

Matsumiya-sensei ushered him inside, closing the door behind him. Kiyotaka began to hyperventilate. And to think he had walked out without a care, his Eye completely naked and bare to the world! And he hadn’t even _noticed!_ He’d not only lost the _most important thing_ he owned, he’d flaunted his indecent state across the entire school!

Matsumiya-sensei handed Kiyotaka a piece of cloth to hold to his Eye, and he immediately jammed it against his right eye socket. At least _she_ wasn’t judging Kiyotaka too badly, or else she was incredibly good at hiding it. Kiyotaka felt the cloth go damp under his fingers as he began to sob anxious tears, his breath coming in panicked hiccups.

He didn’t remember much after that- Matsumiya-sensei later said that he’d passed out from his panic, and she’d called his father to pick him up. His father hadn’t punished Kiyotaka as harshly as he expected- simply swore under his breath and promised to confront his attackers’ parents as soon as possible. Kiyotaka didn’t understand why he was angry with _them_ and not _him-_ after all, he was the one who was foolish enough not to protect his Eye during the scuffle!

They never did recover Kiyotaka’s Eyepatch. Apparently one of the boys had thrown it out somewhere, and didn’t remember where. Kiyotaka took to wearing cheap, disposable Eyepatches after then. They didn’t have the funds to buy him something more personalised, and after Torisei and co.’s stunt, his classmates’ took to attacking Kiyotaka’s Eye first thing in a fight.

Of course _Kiyotaka_ had to have an odd Eye. He had odd eyes in general, really… red eyes were definitely _not_ common, and seemed to be a trademark of the Ishimaru family. Kiyotaka hoped that his Soulmate didn’t get teased about their eyes… lilac couldn’t be an especially common eye colour either, and Kiyotaka hated to imagine there was a girl out there who was teased as mercilessly as he was.

Overtime, his classmates started paying more attention to their own Eyes instead of Kiyotaka’s. In fact, once the rest of his classmates had begun hitting puberty, it was _all_ they could talk about. Kiyotaka couldn’t count the amount of times he’d reprimanded his fellow students for gossiping about potential Soulmates in the middle of a study period. Kiyotaka didn’t understand what all the fuss was about, honestly. It was extremely improbable that any of them would find their Soulmates when they were this young.

Then again, Kiyotaka wasn’t like the rest of them. Everyone else had regular eyes- browns and blues and greys and muted greens. Anyone could be a potential Soulmate to them. Kiyotaka knew for a fact that none of the girls in the entirety of Kaiseidan Academy had purple eyes. Not that he really cared- he would be better for both him _and_ his Soulmate if she met him when he was an adult; when he had a chance to redeem his family name.

Even with all this perfect logic, Kiyotaka sometimes found himself caught up in the same whirlwind of excitement that surrounded soulmates. Once he had caught his breath as he passed a girl who had _almost-purple_ eyes, but when he looked again they were clearly blue. It was stupid to hope, or to expect that he’d find his Soulmate so early, but he still couldn’t deny for a split-second that his heart had leapt with excitement.

Then, the unthinkable happened.

Not to Kiyotaka, but to one of his classmates.

Hideki Akiyama was one of the more reserved girls in Kiyotaka’s 9th grade class, which was why he thought it odd that she was practically crushed by a small crowd of classmates, male and female alike. Kiyotaka didn’t mind her sudden popularity, as long as everyone returned to their seats as soon as class commenced. He didn’t even think to ask what all the fuss was about until tried to sit down at his own desk.

Seeing as Akiyama wasn’t too popular _normally,_ she had sat next to Kiyotaka in the front row, because nobody else wanted to. Normally, everyone wanted to sit _behind_ Kiyotaka, but never _beside_ him, so they could flick spitballs at him and cheat off his test papers.

Kiyotaka had to push past Akiyama’s crowd of new friends, muttering apologies under his breath as he attempted to make his way to his desk. On his way though, he happened to catch a glimpse of Akiyama herself, and froze in his tracks.

Akiyama wasn’t wearing her Eyepatch.

Kiyotaka would have normally alerted the teacher of this blatant breaking of the rules, or given her a detention himself, but her eyes _matched._ Her Eye was the exact same colour as her other one, the same dark brown with small flecks of gold in it. There was only one thing this could mean- Akiyama had actually _found_ her Soulmate. They had looked into each other’s Eyes, and had their own Eye returned to them.

And for some reason, this irked Kiyotaka.

It irked him because it shattered all of his perfect reasoning. It irked him because it proved him wrong; it proved that you _could_ find your Soulmate this early. It irked him because someone so unpopular, someone with only a slightly higher social standing than _him_ had become popular overnight because of that. It irked him because he knew that he’d never get to be that person, because nobody he knew had eyes like him.

But he pushed all those thoughts aside. He _was_ happy for Akiyama, he really was! It was no use being jealous of another student’s happiness. So he swallowed his feelings, and sat down at his desk. He couldn’t help but overhear the chatter around Akiyama, though.

“So who was it? How’d you guys find out you were, y’know…” a female student- Kiyotaka had never held a conversation long enough with his classmates to recognise them by voice- asked.

“Well… it was Hideyoshi-chan, he’s my neighbour-” Akiyama replied.

“Oooh, using ‘-chan’ for him already? Are you two dating?”

“I mean- yeah, I think so!”

The conversation was cut short as the class bell rang, and Kiyotaka snapped to attention as soon as his teacher entered the room. This was what he was _supposed_ to be thinking about: schedules and homework and equations. He shouldn’t be thinking about the jealous feeling curling in his gut.

He shouldn’t be thinking about his odd eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Kiyotaka made himself dinner that night. His father had left a note on the refrigerator saying that he wouldn’t be back until twelve, which was a couple of hours after Kiyotaka usually headed to bed. This wasn’t an irregular occurrence; Kiyotaka’s father wasn’t the most popular person in the police department, and was often offered horrid shifts because of this. Kiyotaka didn’t blame his father for his constant absence. He was doing the best he could.

Kiyotaka took some rice out of the pantry, loading up the rice cooker (one of the few luxuries they still had). Kiyotaka only knew how to cook basic dishes, like rice balls and tea, but if he added some of the canned beans they _probably_ still had, plus some soy sauce and a carrot if he could find one, it’d still provide enough nutrients for him to survive off of.

He managed to find the beans, but not the carrot. He’d need to remind his father to pick up some more vegetables the next time he went shopping. Soon, Kiyotaka was eating some misshapen rice balls, stuffed full of as many baked beans he could fit in them. It wasn’t the most delicious of dishes, but it would do.

“Let’s see,” Kiyotaka said to himself, between mouthfuls of rice, “I’ve already done my science homework, and my algebra. My English assignment is coming up soon, but I can spend this weekend studying… what am I forgetting?”

Kiyotaka’s question was answered with the silence of an empty apartment.

“Laundry!” he exclaimed, “That’s it… I dirtied eight uniforms this week, so I can wear my ninth and wash the rest. I wonder if I can find enough change to dry them…”

Kiyotaka stood, walking to his room and rummaging through it for spare change. He eventually found five 100 yen coins scattered in various places- he should give the change to his father once he was done with the laundry. Kiyotaka quickly changed into his ninth uniform, stuffed the change into his pockets, and started placing his used uniforms into his laundry bag. He’d have to ride his bike carefully if he wanted to get the laundry to the laundromat safely- the bag was several years old and fraying, riding too fast may risk damaging it further!

Carefully, Kiyotaka carried the laundry bag out of his apartment, down the stairs of the complex, and into the bashed-up basket of his bike. He’d had the same bicycle for five years, and he had grown tall enough that it was starting to get tricky to ride. He knew how expensive it would be to get a new one, though, so he’d just have to deal with a little bit more walking once he outgrew it.

The route to the laundromat was rode in silence, the streets practically deserted. Nobody came to this neighbourhood anymore, which Kiyotaka considered himself lucky for. Afterall, if nobody was on the streets, he wouldn’t have to worry about speeding up to keep up with the cars, and jeopardizing the safety of his laundry in the process!

Kiyotaka could see the faded neon sign of the laundromat in the distance when he felt something speed past him. It was too small to be a car, but it was definitely going as fast as one…! It was loud, too, and the shock of the sudden noise almost caused Kiyotaka to lose control of his bike. He fumbled with the handlebars for a minute, making sure the bike didn’t pitch into the sidewalk.

Kiyotaka heard something rip, and winced. There goes _that_ laundry bag… maybe the damage wasn’t too bad? He parked his bike a block away from the laundromat to survey the damage, sighing when he saw the large rip in the bag had caused some of his uniforms to spill out.He fretted over the tear, stuffing the uniforms back in the bag, and almost jumped out of his skin when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Kiyotaka whirled around to spy a boy around his age, with spiked-up blonde hair and a teasing smirk on his face. He was definitely some sort of hooligan, with a high-collared leather jacket and a couple band aids stuck to his face- but what was most shocking about his appearance was the fact that he had his Eyepatch stuck up, and was staring at Kiyotaka with _both_ of his eyes.

“Hey, you’re the guy I almost ran over, right?” he asked, eyeing the shellshocked Kiyotaka up and down, “I kinda thought you’d wiped out on that piece a’ shit bike of yours.”

“Y-y-y-your,” Kiyotaka stuttered, pointing at his own Eyepatch.

“What, ya never seen a biker before?” the boy said, arching an eyebrow, “We keep ‘em up. Fuck the rules, fuck authority, fuck having no depth perception.”

“A _biker_ ?!” Kiyotaka cried, this new piece of information not really helping his small panic at seeing someone so blatantly against common decency, “But you- you don’t look any older than _me_!”

“Unless you’re younger than twelve, I’m not.”

“ _TWELVE?!_ ”

“Fuck, stop screaming!” the _twelve year old_ biker said, rolling his eyes, “I’m part of the Crazy Diamonds, most of us are underage, don’t get y’r dick in a twist over it.”

Kiyotaka spluttered. So apparently there were _gangs_ full of _twelve year olds_ who flashed people with their _bare Eyes_ and rode around on _illegal motorcycles_ that they didn’t even have _licences for_ , and one of them had the gall to tell Kiyotaka that he was _overreacting_! This was simply ridiculous, and Kiyotaka wanted out of this conversation as soon as possible.

“You’re too big for that bike,” the boy commented, watching as Kiyotaka climbed back on it, “you’re gonna crash sooner or later.”

“I am aware,” Kiyotaka replied, trying to be as curt as possible.

“You should get a motorbike, y’ never grow outta those.”

Kiyotaka didn’t reply to that suggestion, instead riding as quickly as he could towards the laundromat and away from the strange, indecent boy. Well, that was an odd encounter to grace his otherwise-normal Friday night. He hoped he’d never run into kids like _him_ ever again!

Kiyotaka loaded up his laundry, sticking the correct change into the money slot and listening to the familiar rumbling of the washing machine clean them. He caught his reflection in the shiny side of the machine, and curiosity overtook him. What would it be like to live like that, with his Eye bare to the entire world?

He flicked up his eyepatch, wincing as the bright light of the laundromat caused the pupil in his Eye to rapidly shrink. He blinked a couple times, before looking at himself in the metal of the washing machine. He looked… extremely indecent. One of his pupils was still larger than the other, and the sickly purple of his Eye’s iris almost faded into the white of his Eye. He looked not only promiscuous, but also ridiculous.

The bell attached to the laundromat rang, and Kiyotaka quickly slammed his Eyepatch back down, blushing a deep scarlet. His heart thudded in his chest as another customer walked over to the machines next to him, loading in their laundry. Oh gosh, what had he just _done?!_ Had he really stooped as low as that _miscreant_ , and had bared his Eye in public?! Kiyotaka burned with shame, and unloaded his laundry, moving over to the dryers on the other side of the room.

He tried to forget what had just happened, and how much _trouble_ he would have been if the other customer noticed him. What he had just done was probably the most unspeakable crime of Kiyotaka’s life, and he’d have to work _extra_ hard to punish himself from stooping so low. He always had that extra history research he’d been meaning to get to…

Maybe if he worked hard enough, he’d finally get recognised for his work, and the joy of achieving his goals could distract him from the shameful feeling settling into his bones.

 

* * *

 

School holidays were not things Kiyotaka looked forward to.

For one, they threw off his entire schedule- he had to rework it _completely_ now that the steady constant of school was gone. For another, he had to cook more for himself, instead of buying the cheapest item off the lunch menu, which used up more food than was necessary. But the worst thing was that he eventually ran out of things to study, and was left with absolutely nothing to do the entire rest of the holidays.

He’d re-written and revised his notes at least a hundred times, read his textbooks front-to-back until the pages started fading, and had made so many flashcards he hardly had any room left to store them. He could practically recite some of his textbooks from heart. The only thing he had to do _besides_ studying was exercise, and there was only so many push-ups he could do before his body started screaming for him to stop.

Kiyotaka laid on his back, trying to count the cracks in his plaster ceiling. His father was at work, and would be until an ungodly hour at night. He’d counted twenty-eight cracks so far, and he hoped, in the back of his mind, that the ceiling didn’t cave in on him.

Kiyotaka was _bored._

Itching at the small scars on his thigh, he closed his eyes and tried to think about what he’d do after the break ended. He’d go back to school on September 1st, and he’d take plenty of notes in his classes. He’d get beaten up in lunch break, and would sentence the offenders to detention, which he’d oversee after school. He’d then head home, and study until it was dinnertime- rice balls and green tea- and then he’d study some more until he needed to go to sleep.

He smiled slightly at the thought. Now _that_ was something to look forward to! A routine, a simple schedule he could follow without feeling so _bored._ Maybe he’d even get some new school supplies for his birthday! His sharpener in particular had gotten quite blunt, probably due to the fact that it was so frequently used…

Speaking of sharp things, he needed new hair clippers as well. His hair was ever-so-slightly too long, and he’d need a haircut too. His old hair clippers had been stolen on the last day of school. It was more likely he’d get one and not both, so he’d have to figure out which one was more vital… hair clippers were more expensive, but he’d need a few sharpeners as backups if he lost any… maybe if his father bought a set of cheap sharpeners instead of the metal ones Kiyotaka used _now,_ he’d have enough money for both!

Then there was the cake. Despite Kiyotaka’s protests, his father always bought him a slice of cake from the baker down the road- and it was always chocolate cake, Kiyotaka’s favourite. Kiyotaka appreciated that his father cared enough to buy him a special treat, but chocolate was always more expensive than the other cake flavours, and he didn’t really _need_ the cake…

Honestly, it would just be better for his father if he didn’t have to spend money on Kiyotaka at _all._ If Kiyotaka was out of the picture, he’d have more money to put towards paying rent, buying food, repaying their debt… And his father was still young, too, so it wasn’t like he couldn’t have a child _after_ all his financial struggles had been dealt with! Kiyotaka had been born when his father was hardly an adult, still in university, and he could only imagine how much of a burden he must have been.

At least he wasn’t that much of a burden _now_ … He’d managed to get into a good high school, one that was a combination Junior _and_ Senior High! That meant that he wouldn’t have to give his father more stress by making him buy a completely new set of uniforms, and Kiyotaka wouldn’t have to figure out a new schedule and bus route for himself. He was truly lucky to have been accepted into Kaiseidan, even if his classmates were a little… disagreeable.

But still, being accepted into such a good high school was only the start of his work! He needed to remain top of the class to make sure that everyone knew that the only way to succeed was through constant hard work and effort! And then maybe they’d stop relying on their natural intelligence to solve problems for them, and actually work towards their goals! Forming the disciplinary committee had been Kiyotaka’s first step towards school-wide reform… not that anything seemed to be happening yet.

Oh well! It was only the first year his plan had been set into action, and he still had three more years of schooling left! Surely his classmates must mature sometime over the next year- and then they’d start seeing things from _his_ point of view! And then maybe he’d stop beating _himself_ up for not being able to change anything… at least his sharpeners wouldn’t blunt as easily then.

Kiyotaka got up from his bed, deciding to do some stretching. He hadn’t gone jogging today, so it was a good idea to warm up before he started on his usual route. He stretched over so that the tips of his fingers touched his toes, holding the position for ten seconds. He then reached up high, trying to reach the ceiling of his room. And then he went back down again. They were just simple stretches, but they kept him occupied.

He repeated these stretches for about a minute longer, before focusing on stretching out his thighs and calves. Once that was done, he briefly stretched out his arms, before grabbing the eyepatch on his bedside table and putting it on. He picked a bit at a pimple on the bare skin of his arm, before walking over to his closet to grab his PE uniform. His PE uniform showed a little bit more skin than he preferred, especially around his leg region, but he would deal with it. It wasn’t anyone was going to be looking at him too closely anyway.

Kiyotaka grabbed his keys to the apartment, stuffing them in the pockets of his gym shorts, and headed out the door. He should probably check the mail while he was on the way out- he couldn’t afford to miss a bill and get the utilities shut off again because his father didn’t pay on time.

Kiyotaka walked over to the mailboxes in the lobby of the apartment building, opening the one corresponding to his apartment. The lock didn’t work anymore- vandals had broken it, and sometimes stole their mail (while leaving… quite unsanitary gifts in their place). Luckily, this time the mail seemed untouched- there was a bill for his father, another bill for his father, a couple flyers for the new pizza place that had opened across the block, a hand-written post-it saying “GET OUT ISHIMARUS”, a letter advertising insurance, and… a letter that was addressed to _Kiyotaka._

Kiyotaka _never_ got mail. The last time he had gotten anything was when his classmates found out his home address and mailed him an envelope full of ants. Luckily, most of the ants had been dead, but it was still quite frustrating to clean up when he’d dropped the letter in disgust.

But this letter was different. It wasn’t hand-written, but instead cleanly printed out, so it was most likely from a company, not a student. Kiyotaka was a bit young to be getting insurance advertisements for himself, wasn’t he? He turned the letter around to see the return address, and nearly dropped it out of shock.

Right there, staring up at him was the _Hope’s Peak Academy_ insignia. Kiyotaka tore the letter open without thinking, pulling out a few sheets of paper. His heart was beating fast enough that he felt that he’d already _been_ jogging! The letters looked legitimate, so it was unlikely this was a prank… Kiyotaka decided to read them carefully first, just in case this was a particularly cruel joke by his "friends."

 

_Kiyotaka Ishimaru,_

_You have been scouted to represent and attend Hope’s Peak Academy as the Super High School Level Moral Compass. You have displayed the amazing talent of being able to maintain a superhuman level of work ethic_ _. D_ _edication to your studies and your work on the Kaiseidan disciplinary committee have shown that you are also an extremely capable leader and organiser, with an astounding set of morals and unwavering dedication to justice and promoting your fellow students’ wellbeing._

 _Because of this, you have been selected to attend Hope’s Peak Academy_ _as part_ _of our 78th class this September 1st. We understand your unique financial situation, so the school board has agreed to purchase you a set of school uniforms and basic school supplies. However, for future years you will have to produce and purchase your own supplies. We hope that you accept this opportunity to be a part of the Hope’s Peak community, and that we can help foster your talent and growth should you chose to do so._

_Additional information about your timetable, housing arrangements, and the school’s facilities have been included, as well as instructions on what to do come orientation day._

_Signed,_

_Jin Kirigiri, Headmaster of Hope’s Peak Academy._

_Koichi Kizakura, official Talent Scout of Hope’s Peak Academy._

 

Kiyotaka’s hands were shaking as he finished reading the letter. Super High School Level Moral Compass…? It was a rather abstract name, but the definition they included was _incredibly_ flattering and exactly what he’d been aiming for! He’d finally done it! He’d finally proven that hard work and dedication can be equal to, possibly even _better_ than natural-born talent!

Kiyotaka could feel happy tears start to prick at his eyes, dribbling down his face as he shook with pure joy. He had to tell his father immediately. It would be easier if they had a home phone, but it had broken a month ago and they hadn’t gotten it replaced yet, so the only phone they owned was his father’s half-dead mobile… but no matter! He’d just wait until his father was home to tell him the good news!

Kiyotaka took the stairs two at a time, practically sprinting back inside to look through the rest of the letter. There was a map of Hope’s Peak, showing the four different buildings (one for the dormitories and leisure activities, one for the Main Course classrooms, one for the old school building (currently undergoing renovations), and one was for the Reserve Course). The school was absolutely giant! Kiyotaka was half-afraid that he’d get lost… but surely his classmates would help him out if he did!

His classmates… now that was another whole can of worms. There would, no doubt, be like-minded individuals like him who actually worked hard for their talent… but there was also bound to be a lot of _geniuses._ Maybe Kiyotaka could persuade them to start taking their talent more seriously if he did run into any of them… after all, he wasn’t scouted as the Super High School Level Moral Compass for nothing!

He was _finally_ getting the reward he’d worked so hard for.

  
Life was good for Kiyotaka Ishimaru.


	2. Mondo Oowada, before the Academy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for brief mentions of child abuse! Mondo and Daiya's home life before they become bikers is really shit. There's also a scene with a car crash- the one where Daiya dies. So if you're sensitive to either of these issues, proceed with caution! (Also there's a very brief mention of animal death pertaining to Chuck. It isn't described, though, just mentioned that he died).

**** “There’s nothing  _ wrong _ with him!” Daiya shouted, slamming his fist into the living room wall. 

Mondo watched from behind the couch, shivering slightly with fear. His eyes kept flickering between his brother and his father, both of them sporting  _ incredibly  _ angry looks. Daiya was almost as tall as his father now, even though he was only five years older than Mondo (who was still barely 4’6). The y both looked terrifying to the ten year old, although Mondo knew that Daiya was just trying to protect him.

Mondo squeaked as Daiya dodged a plate,  which smash ed into the wall behind him. Mondo hated to think that because of  _ him,  _ Daiya would get hurt- it was Mondo’s fault for being born with such stupid eyes in the first place. The rest of his family had regular blue eyes, so why couldn’t he? Even his  _ Eye _ was horrible- who the heck had red eyes? Was he gonna end up dating a  _ vampire?!  _

Mondo sunk behind the couch, fitting his hands over his ears as the screaming match raged on. Mondo’s mom, who could usually de-escalate arguments like this, was passed out on the floor next to him, snoring obnoxiously with a bottle of  _ something  _ clutched in her hand. Mondo had asked what it was once, but neither Daiya nor his mom had bothered to tell him. 

And then, as soon as the fighting had started, everything went quiet. Mondo cautiously moved his hands from his ears, only hearing someone panting in exertion. What had just happened…? Did Daiya get hurt again? One time, Daiya had gotten a huge black eye- that was when he bought the bike without telling his father. He’d almost gotten suspended from his high school because they thought he’d gotten it from a fight. While that wasn’t exactly wrong, it definitely wasn’t the type of fight they thought it was…

Mondo crawled over to the edge of the couch, sticking his head out from behind it to try and see what exactly had happened. Daiya was still standing, surprisingly, and had a trophy clutched in his hand. Mondo gasped in fear, eyes going wide. Oh crap, that was one of father’s trophies! He was gonna  _ kill  _ Daiya if he saw him holding it!

Daiya looked over to him, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead, long black strands of hair sticking to it. He smiled weakly at Mondo, dropping the trophy. It clanged on the wooden floor, making Mondo wince, but Daiya didn’t seem to care.

“It’s over, lil’ bro,” he mumbled, “get’cha shit, we’re leavin’.”

Mondo nodded, getting off his hands and knees to try and check out why everything had gone silent. He stumbled backwards in shock as his eyes swept over the scene: Daiya was standing over his father’s  _ body,  _ which was unmoving  aside from the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

“He’s- he’s not  _ dead _ , is he?!” Mondo squeaked out, pointing to his father. Daiya kicked the body, before spitting on it. 

“Nope. Just out cold. Now hurry up and get’cha shit already, ‘fore he wakes up!” Daiya commanded, and Mondo scurried off to their shared room, dragging out as much stuff as he could and stuffing it in his backpack. He’d need his toothbrush, and his Eyepatch, and his pyjamas, but not his uniform (if they were leaving home, they probably didn’t need school anymore!). Mondo felt something wet touch his leg, and he nearly fell over from shock, before glancing down at Chuck. 

Could they take him? Mondo didn’t want to just  _ leave  _ him here, but he’d need to grab all of Chuck’s things as well, and Daiya seemed like he was in a hell of a hurry…

Chuck whined, fluffy tail wagging behind him, and Mondo made up his mind. He grabbed Chuck, slinging his backpack over his shoulders, and ran back to Daiya. Chuck didn’t like being carried, and gnawed at Mondo’s arm in protest, but there was no way in hell Mondo was gonna leave him here.

“You’re takin’ him, huh?” Daiya asked, nervously eyeing his father’s sleeping body, “Fuck, that’s gonna be difficult, but…”

“He’s  _ my  _ lil’ bro, aniki. I’m not leavin’ him,” Mondo stated, as firmly as he could. He stared at Daiya with all the determination his tiny preteen body could muster, and Daiya sighed in resignation.

“Alright, but you’re holdin’ him. I already packed my shit, it’s in the garage, so  _ move. _ ” Daiya fli pp ed his father’s body off one last time, before grabbing Mondo’s arm and speed walking over to the garage. Mondo followed, kind of irritated that Daiya didn’t trust him to walk fast enough on his  _ own. _

Daiya grabbed another backpack from a corner in the garage, slinging it over his shoulders. He straddled his motorbike, fishing his keys out of his pocket and revving the engine. Mondo stared at it, confused as to what he was actually meant to be doing here.

“Where do me and Chuck sit?” Mondo asked, eyeing the motorbike up and down. It only had one seat, as far as he could tell, and there was no place for him to put Chuck down while they rode.

“Uh, fuck- stuff Chuck in your backpack,” Daiya said, running a hand through his hair nervously. Mondo scowled at him, kinda pissed that he didn’t think this plan through enough before he clocked his dad over the head. Mondo placed Chuck down on the floor, the maltese staying close to him and sniffing his backpack as Mondo plopped it down next to him.

“He’s gonna eat all my candy, though,” Mondo whined, and Daiya smacked a hand into his forehead.

“I can buy ya more candy! Just get the dog in the bag before  _ he  _ wakes up!” 

Mondo grumbled a few swears under his breath as he picked up Chuck again, placing him in the backpack and zipping it up just enough so that Chuck could still stick his head out.

“What if he falls out?”

“We’ll deal with that if and when it happens. Just move y’r fuckin’ ass and get on the back of the bike!” Daiya scooted up the bike more, patting the seat behind him. Mondo stuck his tongue out in distaste.

“You’re gonna squash me!”

“Get! On! The! Fuckin’! Bike! You little piece of shit!” Daiya snapped, just as Mondo heard a door slam in the house. Him and Daiya exchanged a Look, before Mondo sprinted over to the bike, clinging onto Daiya’s waist as tight as he could.

“Drive, drive, drive!” Mondo yelled, and Daiya twisted the throttle. The bike roared to life, skidding out of the garage just as Mondo’s father burst through the garage door, screaming obscenities. Chuck yipped, squirming around in Mondo’s backpack, and Daiya sped down the street, trying to get as far away from their house as possible.

“Where are we going?!” Mondo yelled over the sound of the engine and the wind whipping around him. Daiya didn’t answer, weaving his bike through traffic. Mondo smushed his face against Daiya’s back, trying to avoid getting smacked in the face by his brother’s long hair. 

Eventually, Daiya slowed, pulling into the garage of a vaguely familiar house. Mondo opened his eyes, shakily stepping off the bike and trying not to throw up. Daiya parked his bike, turning it off and stuffing his keys back into his pocket. Chuck whimpered, and Mondo unzipped his back to let him out, before scowling.

“He pissed in my bag!” Mondo yelled, practically shoving his sopping backpack in Daiya’s face.

“Hey! Watch your fuckin’ language!” Daiya said, pushing the bag out of his face, “I’ll get’cha a new one! Now shuddup, I gotta talk to someone.”

Mondo kicked a pebble next to his foot, trailing behind Daiya as he walked up to the front door. Chuck didn’t follow, instead choosing to continue taking a piss on the house's front lawn. Daiya pressed a finger against the doorbell, and a couple seconds later, a girl answered the door. Oh, now Mondo recognised the house. It was the home of Daiya’s  _ girlfriend  _ (ew).

“Daiya-kun!” the girl greeted, looking past him to spot Mondo, “You’re here at an… interesting time!” Mondo stuck his tongue out at her, blowing a raspberry. 

“Yeah… dad kicked us out. Y’mind if we crash here?” Daiya asked, nervously scratching the back of his neck. His girlfriend made a strained face, looking behind her.

“Not sure how my parents are gonna react… but you can stay the night, at least…”

“Better than nothin’. C’mon, Mon-chan, this is where we’ll be crashin’ tonight.”

Mondo grumbled in distaste, whistling for Chuck, who scurried past him and into the house. Daiya’s girlfriend looked thoroughly stressed out by this development, especially as Chuck dived straight for a stray shoe and began nibbling on it. Mondo chuckled, following Chuck into the house and petting his fluffy white head.

Daiya and his girlfriend went into another room to discuss boring teenager crap, leaving Mondo alone to play with Chuck. Chuck stopped nibbling on the shoe to lick Mondo’s fingers instead, Mondo using his other hand to pat Chuck’s back. And then, all of a sudden, there was a pressure on  _ his  _ back as well.

Mondo shrieked, and he heard an unfamiliar voice break into laughter. He spun around to stare at the source of the laughter- a kid that didn’t look too much older than him, with shaggy blonde hair and no shirt. Mondo narrowed his eyes at the kid, who stopped laughing for two seconds to flash Mondo a shit-eating grin.

“Who the heck are you?” Mondo asked, trying to sound as intimidating as possible. The kid giggled, pushing his hair away from his eyes (both of them exposed: one an almost golden brown, the other bright blue). 

“You’re the one in my house, I should be askin’ you that!” the kid said, poking Mondo in the shoulder, “Y’got a cute dog. Are you a girl?”

Mondo spluttered in anger, smacking the kid’s hand away from his shoulder. “I’m not a freakin’ girl! Why the hell’d ya think that?!”

“I dunno. You got a cute fluffy girly dog, your hair’s all long, and you’re short. You look like a girl.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m a boy, and I’m manly as hell!” Mondo exclaimed, pretty much ready to punch this twerp in the face, “My aniki’s got long hair, and he’s super manly too!”

The kid rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, girlie. My name’s Takemichi Yukimaru, what’s yours?”

Mondo decided that he hated Yukimaru, and would hate him for the rest of his life. And absolutely  _ nothing  _ was going to change that. 

 

* * *

 

“I met a nerd today,” Takemichi mumbled, leaning over the handlebars of Mondo’s motorcycle and smirking, “I almost ran him over with my bike.”

Mondo chuckled, adjusting a screw on his bike. He wiped the sweat off his brow with an oily hand, unknowingly spreading grease across his face. His bike was almost finished- just a couple more adjustments and it would be ready for the race. Daiya had promised he wouldn’t go easy on Mondo, and Mondo was determined to finally earn the respect of the gang (and kick his brother’s ass in the process).

“Was he one of th’dumbasses who don’t know ‘bout our Eyes?” Mondo asked, flicking his fingers against his Eyepatch. Takemichi nodded, spitting the gum he’d been chewing out onto the floor of the warehouse, and stepping on it with a boot. Immediately after doing so, he realised his mistake, and sat down to pick the gum out of the sole of his boot.

“Was a real prude, y’know? Looked like he was ‘bouta blow a fuckin’ blood vessel with how red his face was. His bike was pretty shit too,” Takemichi continued, scraping the worst of the gum out with a stray piece of scrap metal. 

“He rode a bike?”

“No, not like, y’know- not like  _ us.  _ Was an actual fuckin’  _ bicycle. _ ”

Mondo scoffed, dropping his wrench on the ground and moving to inspect the other side of the bike. Everything looked to be in order- just covered with a healthy coat of grease. He’d need to clean that shit off if he wanted his bike to look presentable in the race. 

“Why’re ya tellin’ me ‘bout this anyway, ‘Michi? Did Daiya set ya up to distract me or summat?” Mondo asked, dipping a cloth in a bucket of water and beginning to wipe the worst of the grease away. 

“Nah, just makin’ conversation. I’m meant ta be y’r best friend ‘nd all, and y’suspect me of tryin’ to help aniki out? I’m hurt, Mondo. Really am.”

“You won’t be callin’ him ‘aniki’ after this race, so get used ta that. I’m gonna be leader now.” Mondo mumbled, furrowing his brow as he worked to clean off a particularly stubborn bit of grime. 

“Right, right, whatever. You’re lucky you got y’r growth spurt y’know? Or else the guys really  _ would  _ think ya were a weak piece a’ shit,” Takemichi rambled, and Mondo turned his head to glare at him. “Not that you  _ are  _ weak, y’could probably take ten guys at once! Just I don’t think some a’ the assholes in the gang would take ta’ bein’ ordered around by someone who was barely past five feet.”

“‘Michi,  _ you’re  _ barely past five feet,” Mondo pointed out, and Takemichi grinned.

“Yeah, and they all reckon I’m a fuckin’ pansy.”

“Even after you smashed… shit, who was it?”

“Mitsukuni.”

“Yeah, after you smashed Mitsukuni’s fuckin’ face in?”

Takemichi shrugged, throwing the scrap metal at a wall, watching it bounce off and skid away. “Some guys are fuckin’ hard ta’ convince, y’know? Bet even if you  _ do  _ win the race some prissy dickhead’s gonna keep bitchin’ about Daiya leavin’.”

“Yeah, well, they can go fuck themselves,” Mondo muttered,  _ finally  _ getting the damn piece of dirt off his engine, “Daiya  _ told them  _ that he was too old for the gang anymore. Still can’t believe he’s gonna go to fuckin’ university, though.”

“You know what he’s gonna study yet?” Takemichi ran a finger through the thick layer of dust on the floor, tracing the shape of a crude dick and balls onto the warehouse floor. 

“ _ Teachin’,  _ apparently,” Mondo replied, dunking his cloth back into the bucket of water.

“No way! Aniki bein’ a  _ teacher _ ?! Y’gotta be shittin’ me, Mondo.” Takemichi stopped drawing dicks for two seconds to gawk at Mondo, disbelief written all over his face.

“I mean, if he can deal with a thousand fucks on motorcycles, he can prolly deal with like… thirty in a classroom,” Mondo reasoned, “Still don’t know when he became such a nerd, though.”

“Hey, you lot gossipin’ ‘bout me again?” Daiya asked from the doorway, cigarette perched between two of his fingers. He raised an eyebrow, Takemichi looking away with a guilty expression on his face. Daiya chuckled, walking up to Mondo and messing up his hair.

“I became ‘such a nerd’ when I had to  _ raise one _ ,” he quipped, Mondo scowling and punching him in the leg, while Takemichi tried to hold back giggles, “You ready for the race yet?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Just gotta finish cleanin’ her,” Mondo said, gesturing to his dirty bike. Daiya patted the seat of the motorcycle, sighing almost wistfully. He then looked back over to Mondo, and choked on a laugh.

“You’re gonna  need a wash too, lil’ bro. You look like shit.” Daiya gestured to Mondo’s forehead, and Mondo scrambled up to look at himself in the rear mirror of his bike, swearing loudly. Daiya laughed, before affectionately punching Mondo on the shoulder and leaving to get his own bike ready.

Mondo finished up the last touches on his bike, before rinsing the extra loose dirt off with a hose. Before long, it was sparkling clean and ready for the race. Takemichi whistled in appreciation, and Mondo grinned in pride. She really did look beautiful- fitted out with only the most vibrant and exciting modifications Mondo could make or find, freshly painted and shining like she had just been bought.

“Now, it’s time for  _ me  _ ta get clean,” Mondo announced, “Don’t fuck shit up while I’m gone, aight?”

“Can I join you?” Takemichi purred, fluttering his eyebrows flirtatiously. Mondo scoffed, blushing slightly and pushing Takemichi away.

“I’m not gay, you little shit.”

“And  _ that  _ is one of life’s greatest tragedies. Catch ya later, Mondo.”   


Mondo waved him off, heading to the bathrooms of the warehouse. Thank fuck whoever’d built this had added showers to the staff bathrooms. In a couple minutes, Mondo was as sparkling as his motorcycle was, and he spent the usual time (20 minutes), styling his hair up into it’s truly impressive pompadoured state. 

From there, all he had to do was outline his eyes in eyeliner (which was still manly as fuck), and slip on his gang jacket. Mondo was planning on doing something different with the jackets once he came to power- white stained too easily and it was a bitch to get grease and blood out of. Maybe a black would work better, or a dark purple…

When he stepped out of the bathrooms, Daiya was waiting for him, playing with the butt of a cigarette. Mondo looked up at him, and Daiya smiled, slinging an arm around his little brother.

“You ready for this?” he asked, a  wisp of smoke exiting his nose as he exhaled. 

“I was born ready.”

Nearly the whole gang was waiting for them when the y left the warehouse, some of them leaning on the wall and sharing a pack of cigs, others squatting on the ground and playing what looked to be Go Fish. A few of the younger members were biting their lips nervously and exchanging gossip, still not quite filling out their oversized gang jackets. Takemichi was among them, seeming to fuel the gossip, abusing his position as the dedicated Leader of the Preteens.

Daiya cleared his throat, and everyone simultaneously turned to look at the pair of brothers, some of the older members scowling with distaste at the sight of Mondo. Takemichi elbowed said members in the stomach, sticking his tongue out at Mondo and winking. Mondo sighed, wincing slightly as one of Takemichi’s burlier victims smacked the back of his head. 

“Alright, listen up fucks!” Daiya announced, voice ringing out across the parking lot, “This is gonna be my last night leadin’ the Diamonds.”

An audible groan rang out from across the gang, and Daiya frowned.

“And I trust you guys to be just as loyal to  _ Mondo  _ as y’were to me! That means no pickin’ on him, no questionin’ his leadership, and especially no rebellion. Y’hear me?!” Daiya continued, and unenthusiastic agreement came from the crowd. Daiya practically growled in frustration at this, tightening his grip on Mondo’s shoulder, “You give him some fuckin’  _ respect!  _ And if I find out any of you motherfuckers aren’t treatin’ him just like you treated me, you’re out of the gang.”

Most of the gang nodded in reluctant agreement, and Daiya calmed down slightly. “Now, the rules of the race are clear- if Mondo wins, anyone who bets against him will have’ta let ‘Michi decorate your bikes, and y’have to keep it like that for a week. If  _ I  _ win, the same happens to those who betted against  _ me _ . This is just fun and games, so even if I  _ do  _ win, I better not hear any of you shitheads bitchin’ ‘bout Mondo bein’ leader.”

“Let the race begin!” Takemichi yelled, “Aniki, soon-ta-be-aniki, get on your bikes!”

The crowd parted to allow Mondo and Daiya access to their bikes, and Daiya patted Mondo’s shoulder in affection, before breaking apart to straddle his bike. Mondo did the same, pleased to find that whoevere’d been in charge of setting the bikes out had already stuck his key in the ignition.

“Good luck, lil’ bro!” Daiya yelled, and Mondo grinned at him.

“Break a leg, bitch!” Mondo replied. The crowd laughed, and Daiya flipped Mondo off. Takemichi grabbed the Crazy Diamond’s flag, holding it as steady and professionally as he could. He was practically shivering in excitement, eyes flickering between Mondo and Daiya.

“Get your engines ready!” he called out, and Mondo and Daiya simultaneously turned the key in their ignition. Their bikes rumbled to life, and Mondo focused his attention on the road instead of on his brother. “Alright- ready, set, go!” Takemichi slammed the flag down into the ground, and the brothers raced off into the night.

Daiya was winning. How the fuck?! It had only been a couple minutes, and he was practically  _ miles  _ ahead of Mondo. Mondo gritted his teeth, accelerating his bike further and leaning in to try and catch up. This was complete and utter  _ bullshit-  _ there was no way Daiya could be going this fast- unless he’d upgraded his bike in secret?! Mondo swore, the wind biting into his skin and making his eyes water.

There was only one way Mondo was gonna catch up- if he drove in the other lane, it’d probably shock Daiya into slowing down. One thing the Diamonds  _ never did  _ was riding in the wrong lane- there was way too much chance that someone would get hurt, and Mondo knew how horrible traffic accidents could get (especially after Chuck had died). But the roads were practically empty at this time of night, and as far as Mondo could see, there weren’t actually any cars in the other lane. 

It was the only way.

So he swerved, knuckles gripping his handlebars tight as he raced forward, trying to go as fast as humanly possible. Sure enough, Daiya caught sight of him in his rearview mirror and slowed, Mondo rushing past him. Fucking sweet! Fuck yeah, he was gonna win this shit, he was gonna-

Mondo’s line of sight was suddenly illuminated, and he gulped, eyes going wide. Oh no. Oh fuck. OH FUCK! OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FU-

The truck blared its horn, and Mondo felt something push into his side. He swerved, bike crashing into the sidewalk, Mondo flying out of it and smashing into the concrete. He groaned, spitting blood out of his mouth, and tried to collect his bearings. The entire right side of him stung where he’d hit the pavement, and he hissed as he sat up, looking over to see the side of his jacket bloodstained and in tatters. It felt like his arm was broken, and it hurt to move it. 

A pedestrian rushed to help him, phone held up to her ear. Mondo scowled at her, fighting back tears as he tried to ignore the pain spiking through him. 

“Two victims, yes- one of them looks to be conscious, I think the other one pushed him out of the way-” she bit her lip, “He looks like a kid. Can’t be older than fifteen- please just send an ambulance quick!” ...two victims? Mondo looked back to the road, immediately spotting who she was talking about.

Daiya was crumpled in a heap, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His bike was mangled, and a man- most likely the truck driver- was running his hand through his hair in anxiety. Mondo screamed, ignoring the pain in his side to stand up and stumble over to Daiya, dropping to his knees in front of him.

Daiya, evidently still conscious, looked up at Mondo with unfocused eyes. In the distance, Mondo heard sirens. Mondo shook in fear, reaching up to gently touch the side of Daiya’s face, not wanting to look at the rest of his body- especially his legs, which looked about as fucked up as his bike did. 

“Hey,” Daiya croaked, and Mondo felt a couple tears roll down his cheeks and splatter onto his brother’s face, “this is pretty shit, huh?”

Mondo choked on his words, and Daiya smiled softly, “When I said I wanted to retire… I didn’t… fuck,” he didn’t finish his sentence, grunting in pain, “Promise me somethin’. Don’t let the gang go to hell. Keep it together, for me. It’s a… man’s promise…” Daiya trialed off, closing his eyes and letting out a shaky breath.

“D-daiya?” Mondo muttered, the wailing of the siren splitting his head open with noise. A couple paramedics jumped out of an ambulance, walking over to Mondo, “I promise! I promise, please come back, c’mon!” Mondo’s voice was starting to break, vision blurring with tears. Daiya’s shuddered beneath him, sucking in a quick breath, and Mondo whimpered with hope.

“You need to get away, kid,” a gruff voice said, pulling Mondo off of Daiya, “ H e’s in critical condition. You’re just hurting him more.”

Mondo screamed, struggling against the man holding him as paramedics slid Daiya onto a gurney. Mondo couldn’t really see what they were doing, but he knew something- ambulances were death traps. Daiya had said so himself when Mondo had mistakenly called one as a kid- ambulances were only for people who were close to death, and they drove them straight to the coroner instead of bothering with the hospital.

Mondo broke the hold the man had on him, wiping away his tears to stare at him. The man was clearly a cop, in full uniform, and Mondo hated every inch of him. Especially his almost-comically oversized eyebrows. The cop moved to grab him again, but Mondo screamed and ran off, cradling his broken arm close to him. He needed to get away. Away from the road, away from the bikes, away from the sickening sense of guilt choking him from the inside.

Daiya was dead, and it was all his fault.

 

* * *

 

School holidays were one of the few things that made Mondo’s life bearable.

No more stupid teachers, no more failing grades, no more detentions! He was home free, and living life the way he  _ wanted  _ to. Who cared that he hadn’t gotten accepted into a single senior high school?! He could deal. He didn’t  _ need  _ to go to school anyway. He’d just work things out  _ his  _ way!

His way was what had helped the gang grow so much, anyway. He’d only been in power for a couple months, and he’d already nearly doubled the size of the gang! Once he’d proved how… how STRONG he was after winning the race, everyone had actually started listening to him. And because of that, he’d made the gang stronger as well. 

Even if his hands still shook when he rode his bike, even when loud noises and truck horns still made him freeze up, even when he spent all night screaming into his pillow. But he was strong. He’d worked through that. He didn’t let himself mope around and mourn like a fucking weakling- he had to keep the gang together!   


He didn’t talk to Takemichi anymore. Not as much as he should, anyway. Mondo hated to ignore his best friend- but Takemichi kept reminding him of things he’d rather forget. Takemichi had been the one to patch up his arm- which wasn’t really broken, just dislocated- and because of that Mondo couldn’t stop associating him with his own weakness.

As in response to his thoughts, Mondo’s phone buzzed with a new text message. He moved some hair out of his face and checked his messages- of course it was Takemichi texting him. None of the other guys knew Mondo’s phone number, and most of them relied on Takemichi to learn news about gang meetings and shit like that. Takemichi had turned into the gang’s secretary, and bitched about it every time Mondo met up with him.

But this text was different- it wasn’t a half-assed invitation to something Takemichi thought would ‘cheer Mondo up’, and it wasn’t official gang news, either. Instead it was a picture of a man in a fedora, who looked to be chatting with a couple newer members of the gang. Takemichi had captioned the picture with the message:  _ this mothrfucka says hes lookin for u aniki. _

_ tell him to piss off,  _ Mondo replied, scowling. He didn’t need any weird visitors right now, especially when they could very well be an undercover cop.

_ yea i tried to tell him that how dumb do u think i am?  _ Takemichi sent,  _ on 2nd thought dont answer that.  _

_ you know who he is? _

_ nope. dont look like a cop though, he smells like whisky or smthing. _

Mondo sighed, pulling his hair back and using a stray hair tie to try and contain it. He hadn’t bothered to style it up properly in a while, usually only doing so when he had important gang meetings to run. It wasn’t that he was sloppy or anything, he just… didn’t really have the energy for it anymore. Didn’t really have the energy for  _ anything  _ anymore.

_ ill be there. just so i can tell him to piss off in person. _

_ glad to know some random drunk dude can pull u out of ur depression hole when i cant >:( _

_ im not depressed. _

Mondo stood up from his mattress, tucking his phone into his pocket. He knew where Takemichi was from the photo- he was outside this very warehouse, out in the parking lot. Motherfucker was probably trying to drag Mondo out of here by force when the weird dude showed up.

Mondo sniffed his pits, trying to see if he was presentable. Welp, that was a strong no. He smelt like shit- when was the last time he showered? He couldn’t remember. Showering was too much work anyway, and he had to use all his energy keeping the gang together. He was about to head out the door when he remembered his Eyepatch, and flipped it down. It definitely wouldn’t be a good impression if the guy saw Mondo walking around with his Eye out like some sort of delinquent.

Which he  _ was,  _ but his point still stood. If the guy really was drunk, Mondo’s fuck-off evil red Eye might scare him shitless.

Mondo opened the door, scowling at Takemichi, who gasped slightly, as if he  _ didn’t  _ know that this was the warehouse Mondo had been squatting in recently.

“Hey, aniki, fancy meeting you here!” Takemichi said, in exaggerated surprise, “Go and meet Kizakura-san, he’s  _ very  _ excited to see you!” Mondo scowled at him and flipped him off, before trudging over to stand in front of the strange guy. He was sorta short, with long, dirty blonde hair and a 5-o'clock shadow. He smiled at Mondo, and waved a letter around.

“Hey, you must be Oowada, right?” ‘Kizakura’ said, handing Mondo the letter, “Do you know how hard it was to get ahold of you? You’re lucky I ran into your friends here before scouting season was up- Jin would have fucked me over, and not in the sexy way.”

Mondo ripped open the envelope, choosing to get this over and done with as soon as possible. He nearly dropped it when he saw the insignia at the top of the introductory letter, though, and glanced over at Kizakura in disbelief.

“This is from Hope’s Peak.” he muttered, “ W hat the fuck?”

“Yeah, you can thank me later, Mister Super High School Level Biker Gang Leader,” Kizakura replied, “It’s a bit of a mouthful, but I was half drunk when I thought up the name, and then nothing else fit right. Read over the letter, decide if you wanna come or not, and I’ll see you again at the orientation. Maybe. If I don’t have a hangover.”

And with that, Kizakura sauntered away, leaving Mondo gaping at the letter in his hands. Him, getting accepted into a place like  _ Hope’s Peak?!  _ That was fucking insane. But the letter looked legitimate enough, and he  _ had  _ been pouring all his time and energy into making the gang better… Who knew being a hopeless delinquent could land you in the top academy in Japan?

“You’re gonna accept, right?” Takemichi asked, peering over Mondo’s shoulder at the letter, “This is your only chance, Mondo- don’t act like you haven’t been rejected from all those senior schools you applied for.”

“Yeah, I get it. Look, I’ll think about it, alright? Hope’s Peak… fancy shit like that isn’t really my style.”

But Mondo knew what he had to do- he knew because it’s what Daiya would have told him to do. Daiya would have wanted him to get into a good school. Daiya would have wanted him to have a future.

And for the sake of his brother’s memory, Mondo was finally going to do something with his life.


	3. Welcome to the Academy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this coming out late! I just started school again, so future updates will be slower. Like always, this was Beta-read and edited by the wonderful CharlotteML! 
> 
> I've also decided that this fanfic will be much longer than previously thought. I'd originally aimed for 5 chapters, but it looks like it'll be at least 7, maybe 10. Hope you enjoy reading it enough to stick with it!

Kiyotaka read over the welcome letter for what must have been the eighth time today, nervously tugging on the sleeves of his uniform, and worrying his lower lip under his teeth. He hated the fact that he was apparently weak enough to fall back onto these nervous habits- if he tore a seam in his sleeve, or ended up cutting his lip, he’d certainly not been seen as a disciplined student! It would make a horrid first impression, especially for someone who was  _ supposed  _ to be the Super High School Moral Compass.

Still, these little habits seemed to be unavoidable- every time he’d catch his fingers straying to his sleeves, or his teeth nibbling on his lip, he’d stop, only for him to find himself doing it again only minutes later! His body was packed full of so much nervous energy he thought he might  _ explode  _ if he didn’t do something about it soon. His father was sitting in the seat across from him, sipping his morning cup of coffee he’d picked up on the way to the train station, and for once Kiyotaka wished that he’d bought a cup as well, if only to have something to occupy his mouth and twitchy fingers.

Kiyotaka’s attention flickered from his father’s coffee cup, to the windows of the train, to the suitcase by his feet. There were very  few people on the train alongside him- he’d picked a very early train to catch, hoping to be at the campus before everyone else, in order to make a good impression. The only other occupants were two teenagers sitting next to each other: one of them with long silver hair tied into two braids, the other considerably younger-looking and with a blonde buzzcut. 

The shorter of the two caught Kiyotaka looking at them, and flipped him off. Kiyotaka startled slightly, and promptly looked away. How vulgar! Sure, the boy had looked  _ very  _ young, but he should still learn appropriate etiquette, especially when he was so impressionable! Kiyotaka shuddered to think what his parents must be like if they let their child insult strangers for so much as  _ looking  _ at them.

At least he’d been wearing his Eyepatch, unlike that boy Kiyotaka had run into a couple months ago. And a very impressive Eyepatch it was… from what Kiyotaka had seen of it, it had looked very intricate and  _ expensive.  _ He sneaked another glance to get a better look at it- where had he seen that logo? He vaguely remembered seeing it in a newspaper before, but about  _ what  _ he just couldn’t put his finger on…

“Do you not understand how to mind your own fucking business, creep?” the boy said, scowling at Kiyotaka. Takaaki looked over to the source of the noise, eyes going wide. 

“I apologise! I just thought that your Eyepatch-” Kiyotaka began, but he was cut off by Takaaki talking over him.

“I’m sorry about my son, he won’t bother you again.” Takaaki moved across the train, tugging on Kiyotaka’s arm to move him down a few seats, away from the odd teenagers. Kiyotaka’s eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of irritation and confusion, and Takaaki gave him a slightly strained smile. But… why? Why was his father acting like he was  _ afraid  _ of that short boy? Takaaki sat down next to Kiyotaka, pulling Kiyotaka close against him.

“Yakuza,” Takaaki muttered, through clenched teeth, “They’re yakuza, Kiyotaka. Don’t talk to them.”

Kiyotaka’s eyes went wide, and he struggled against his instinctual desire to oogle the apparent members of the yakuza. At least that explained where he’d recognized the logo from… his father was fond of reading the crime section of the newspaper, and when Kiyotaka was younger, he would sit on his father’s lap and try to read it with him. There must have been an article on whichever yakuza family the duo belonged to… but the boy had looked so  _ young!  _ Was the yakuza accepting teenage members now, just like the bosozoku had?

“Oh,” was all he said, trying to ignore the feeling that someone was staring at  _ him  _ now- would it be worth it to turn around? If they were yakuza, looking back at them might be the last thing he ever  _ did _ … when he became Prime Minister, he would try to do something about the widespread prevalence of the yakuza! That had been another area his  _ genius  _ grandfather had failed at… in fact, most of his corruption scandal had been about his apparent  _ ties  _ to the yakuza, and how he was taking bribes for the them to have more political influence! And as much as Kiyotaka wanted to deny those rumours, he couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t entirely out of character for his grandfather do actually do such a thing…

At least his family didn’t seem to be in debt to any particular yakuza clan- Kiyotaka had heard horror stories of people paying with their  _ lives  _ if they didn’t have the money… some people even claimed that certain clans would steal the  _ children  _ of the indebted party. That was, of course, entirely ridiculous! Life wasn’t some fairytale where a witch demanded payment in the form of the royal family’s first-born-child… that sort of nonsense was best suited to first-grade required reading material, not real life!

Kiyotaka decided not to look back at the teenagers, hoping that maybe they’d just disappear if he didn’t pay any attention to them. His father seemed to have the same idea as him, clutching Kiyotaka’s shoulder tight. Kiyotaka loved his father, he really did, but he always seemed to be… extremely nervous. Not that Kiyotaka could blame him in this particular situation, but his father seemed to run solely on coffee and anxiety. Kiyotaka hoped that when he grew older he didn’t fall into the same habit, and not just because the caffeine would be horribly unhealthy for him.

Before long, the train pulled into the station, and his father released his grip on Kiyotaka’s shoulder. Kiyotaka snuck a peek over at the yakuza members, only to find that they were picking up their bags as well… they must have business here too. Kiyotaka shuddered to think what that “business” entailed, and hoped he didn’t run into them again whilst they were navigating the station. 

Kiyotaka’s father helped him with his bags, ignoring Kiyotaka’s protest that he could do it just  _ fine  _ by himself. The station was busier than the train was, men and women fluttering around, gripping briefcases and checking their watches. Kiyotaka felt an instinctual desire to bring order to the place- it resembled Kaiseidan’s halls two minutes after the lunch bell had rung. Of course, he couldn’t exactly give detentions to half-late business workers who were rushing to catch their morning train. Doing so would not only be ridiculous, but horrifically rude. 

“Well, this is it,” Takaaki muttered, “I’ve gotta catch the next train back if I wanna get to work on time. You sure you can handle your bags, Kiyotaka?”

Kiyotaka nodded. “I am positive, father! I hope you have a good day at work, and I won’t forget to call you at our weekly allotted time!” He reached out to take his bags from his father’s hands, smiling brightly at him. Takaaki chucked, letting Kiyotaka take the bags, and then pulling him into a one-sided hug. 

“I’m gonna miss you, Kiyotaka… Tell me if the kids at this school aren’t treating you right, I’m sure the school board will listen to my complaints  _ this  _ time.” Takaaki muttered, before pulling away, hands gripping Ishimaru’s shoulders. Kiyotaka nodded, even though he was confident that  _ this  _ time his classmates wouldn’t make fun of him. At least, he hoped so.

“I’ll miss you too, father… please remember to eat! And take regular showers!” Kiyotaka said, and his father chuckled, moving his hands back to his sides. He smiled sadly at Kiyotaka, like he was dropping him off to school for the first time instead of the thousandth. Although, this  _ was  _ the first  _ boarding  _ school Kiyotaka would be going to. Still, it wasn’t as if he saw his father that often anyway, so it really shouldn’t be this hard to say goodbye…

“I will,” Takaaki replied, before glancing up at the station clock and swearing under his breath. Kiyotaka was about to tell him to watch his language, but Takaaki was already gone, waving to Kiyotaka as he left. Kiyotaka was left standing alone on the station, two bags clutched in his hands and a sickening sense of loneliness settling into his gut.

Still, he had to think about this positively! His father may be gone, out of Kiyotaka’s life for months now instead of just days… but he would deal with it! He had new classes to look forward to! New class _ mates  _ to look forward to! Hope’s Peak was bound to be filled to the brim with people who shared his outlook on life, people who agreed that hard work was the be-all-end-all of your success in life!

And even if they  _ weren’t…  _ they couldn’t be  _ that  _ bad, could they?

 

* * *

 

“Fuck!” Mondo swore, kicking the side of his bike, “Fucking piece of shit!”

“Don’t treat a woman like that, aniki,” Takemichi muttered, sitting off to the side and sipping a can of soda, “You’re gonna fuck her up more than she already is. I might call the fuckin’ abuse hotline.”

“She’s fuckin’  _ dead,  _ Michi, might as well just call the fuckin’ cops and arrest me for bein’ a goddamn murderer.” That joke would probably be a lot funnier if it wasn’t  _ true,  _ and Mondo felt his stomach twist with guilt. Nope, he wasn’t thinking about that. Daiya had died because he was a dumbass, not because of Mondo. That was what the gang knew, so it was true now. 

“Pretty rich that the ‘Super High School Level Biker’ or whatever you’re called don’t even have a workin’ bike,” Takemichi joked, and promptly dodged the piece of scrap metal Mondo chucked at him, “You can take my guy out for a spin if you want, I don’t mind.”

Mondo pulled a face at that, before kicking his broken bike another time. She hadn’t really run right since the night of the crash, but Mondo thought she had enough life left in her for him to ride up to Hope’s Peak. Apparently not. Mondo scowled at the thought of having to use Takemichi’s bike- the thing ran just fine, but it didn’t have the right  _ feel  _ to it. Probably because it was a piece of shit Yamaha instead of a Kawasaki. 

Not that Mondo’s Kawasaki was really showing her worth right now, as she lay there, completely dead, on the ground of the parking lot. He might have to take Takemichi’s offer, no matter how uncomfortable it would feel to ride. He didn’t have any choice, unless he magically got all the parts and tools handed to him to fix  _ his  _ bike.

“Only for the trip to Hope’s Peak, then you and the gang are luggin’ my babe up there so I can touch her up,” Mondo said, “Or else I’m gonna just have’ta buy a new one. Maybe the fuckin’... whatsit… ‘financial aid’ shit the school offers will cover the costs.”

“I don’t get why y’hate my bike so much, Mondo,” Takemichi muttered, wheeling his over, “He didn’t do anythin’ bad ta you!”

“He’s slow, ugly, and uncomfortable.”

Takemichi scowled at Mondo, lovingly rubbing his bike’s seat. “Don’t listen ta that asshole.” he cooed, “You’ll always be th’ best for me. Aniki, let me remind you who’s bike’s currently six feet under, and who’s has held up tried n’ true through all these years? Huh?”

“Yeah, I get it. Still uncomfortable.”

“That’s only ‘cause you’re freakishly huge! I swear ta fuckin’ god, it’s like lil’ tiny you got bitten by, like, a radioactive…” Takemichi struggled to complete his metaphor for a second, “...a radioactive  _ really tall guy!”  _

Mondo snorted at that image, momentarily forgetting his annoyance at the idea of riding Takemichi’s piece of shit bike. Takemichi could be a bit of a dumbass sometimes… it was expected that Mondo would get tall, ‘cause  _ Daiya  _ had been tall… it was all due to his… uh… geneti-whatsits.

“Maybe  _ you  _ just got bit by hamster or summat,” Mondo countered, leaving Takemichi sputtering with staged anger. Mondo chuckled at his reaction, and Takemichi grinned, before tackling him to the ground. Mondo yelped with surprise, which set off a round of laughter from  _ Takemichi…  _ and seeing Takemichi’s amusing high-pitched giggles set  _ Mondo  _ off into a laughing fit….

5 minutes later, and the two bikers had nearly pissed themselves from their impromptu laughter, still in a pile on the dirty asphalt of the parking lot, Mondo’s busted bike lying next to them. Mondo eventually pushed Takemichi off of him, wiping a few stray tears from the corner of his eyes. Takemichi wheezed out one final laugh, rolling over onto his back to catch his breath. 

“We’re idiots, aren’t we, aniki?” Takemichi asked, and Mondo grinned.

“Yup.”

Takemichi sat up, smiling fondly down at Mondo with an odd look in his eye. It was kinda weirding Mondo out. Mondo stood, dusting off his pants (not part of the school uniform, of course- what kind of nerd would he look like if he wore  _ that  _ to orientation day?) and straightening his gang jacket. He spared a few seconds to prod at his pompadour- now  _ that  _ was something he had to maintain if he was gonna look the part of Intimidating Gang Leader at Hope’s Peak’s stupid orientation. To his relief, it looked like it was still in one piece, his hairspray and other products still valiantly battling gravity and keeping his pomp upright.

“So… y’gonna ride my bike, or what? I t ’d look kinda stupid if you  _ didn’t…  _ though I’m sure I can get another bike if ya really hate my bike that much.” Takemichi said, standing up and walking over to his bike. Mondo sighed, the fight draining out of him- it would only be a one-time-ride, and it wasn’t like Takemichi’s bike was  _ that  _ bad… plus, it’d take way more time to find another Diamonds member and convince them to give up their bike, even if Mondo  _ was  _ their boss…

“I already said I was, didn’t I?” Mondo replied, following Takemichi over to his bike, “There enough room in the bags for my crap, though?” Mondo checked the two saddlebags attached to the bike, trying to figure out if all his clothes and hair products would fit. He didn’t really have that much crap to begin with- just a few pairs of clothes, his mattress, and his hair stuff. Squatting in warehouses didn’t really accommodate for anything more than that, besides maybe a few of the textbooks and magazines Daiya had owned.

“Should be- if y’can’t fit anything, I’ll get the guys to bring the rest of your stuff tomorrow.” Takemichi walked over to where Mondo’s belongings were; stuffed into a garbage bag in the nearest corner of the parking lot. He picked out the most important stuff- toiletries, hair products, and clothes- and carried it back, dumping it in his bike’s saddlebags. It easily fit, and he grinned.

“Thank’s, ‘Michi… I’ll call ya if y’forgot anything,” Mondo mumbled, straddling the bike. Takemichi handed him the keys. 

“Don’t die, aniki!” Takemichi joked, but Mondo could tell the underlying message in his voice.  _ Don’t end up like Daiya. _

Mondo swallowed down a strangled noise at that, his knuckles gripping the handlebars of the bike tight. He  _ wouldn’t  _ end up like Daiya. He wouldn’t let himself be that stupid again. Mondo started the engine, gave one last wave to Takemichi, and sped off towards Hope’s Peak. 

 

* * *

 

Well,  _ that  _ had been a fairly exhausting walk!

Kiyotaka hadn’t initially calculated how long it would take him to walk from the train station to Hope’s Peak Academy- it had seemed like a reasonable distance when he had checked the map, but he hadn’t realised that the proportions had been skewed in order to show the Hope’s Peak campus in more detail… which had meant his expected 2.5 kilometer walk had  _ actually  _ been closer to  _ 5 kilometers! _

Still… he shouldn’t be complaining. That distance wasn’t even nearly close to that of an actual marathon, or even a  _ half  _ marathon, even if his muscles were aching like he  _ had  _ actually walked that far. That just meant he’d have to increase the intensity of his fitness routine! Judging by Kiyotaka’s watch, he had taken around 40 minutes to walk to the Academy, which was far longer than he would have liked, even if he was still fairly early. The orientation was held at 8AM sharp, and it was around 7:45 right now. 

Normally, Kiyotaka tried to be ahead of the schedule by at least 20 minutes, so this still qualified as late to him- would his classmates see him as being negligent? Would they already be in the entrance hall, silently judging him for his tardiness? He was meant to be the Super High School Level Moral Compass, after all, and what was moral about being nearly late for the most important day in his  _ life?!  _

Kiyotaka hurried his steps, quickly marching through the gates of Hope’s Peak, trying to ignore his rising anxiety. Surely he wouldn’t be the latest, though… in his free time he had googled a list of the students attending Hope’s Peak- who knew there’d be entire  _ forums  _ dedicated to the school’s attendees- and he’d found out that a few students with… dubious talents had been accepted into the school. People like the Super High School Level Forger and the Super High School Level Rebel in the 78-B class, and others like the Super High School Level Gambler and even the Super High School Level  _ Biker Gang Leader  _ in  _ his  _ class… 

There hadn’t been much about him on the forums, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Some people had gossiped about his attendance, claiming that he was there because of  _ nepotism,  _ seeing as his grandfather had apparently been a star student at Hope’s Peak… but that was ridiculous! It didn’t even make sense, seeing as the headmaster decided who was going to attend the school, and his  _ grandfather’s  _ headmaster had been someone completely different! 

Well, Kiyotaka would just have to prove those rumours wrong! It was another piece of gossip on his long list to disprove, but he was sure with a little hard work, the entire world would see that he was completely different from his  _ genius  _ of a grandfather. Kiyotaka quickened his march, reaching the entrance hall of the main course building before too long. It was mostly deserted, a few students milling around- students that had arrived before  _ him-  _ but certainly not the entire class of judgemental students that Kiyotaka had feared.

Kiyotaka breathed a sigh of relief, surveying the group of students- there were meant to be around 32 students present at orientation- class 78-A, which was his class, and class 78-B, which was the neighbouring class. 32 students was an absurdly low intake of students for one year, but Kiyotaka reasoned that it should be incredibly hard to find  _ one  _ high-school student who was the best in Japan at their particular field of study. It was a small miracle that there were any Hope’s Peak students attending this year at  _ all.  _

So far, it looked like only half the amount of students had arrived. It was certainly an odd-looking bunch, perhaps besides the average-looking boy Kiyotaka spotted chatting to a girl with dark blue hair, and Kiyotaka couldn’t help but feel completely out of place.

He decided to stay near the doors, not really wanting to introduce himself  _ just  _ yet… the instructions included in his introduction letter had stated that there would be ample time to make friends and introduce yourself after the principal's address, and before the tour of the school. Sticking to the schedule would be the best thing to do right now- he didn’t want to come off as disrespecting the principal’s plans, or seeming overeager to form bonds with his classmates. That would just come off as him being desperate. 

It wasn’t long before he started fidgeting again, nervous hands tugging at his sleeves. He needed to expel this nervous energy  _ somehow _ , even if it did end up ruining his new Hope’s Peak uniform. Kiyotaka checked his watch again.

_ 7:55. _

More students had filtered in through the doorways in the 10 minutes that Kiyotaka had been standing there, and almost all of them had joined the main group of students. Maybe he should go over there as well… it wouldn’t  _ really  _ be disrespecting the principal’s wishes, as there hadn’t been any explicit rules  _ against  _ socialising before the allotted time. But it was only 5 minutes until the presentation began- even if he could only sustain a conversation for a maximum of three minutes, that still wasn’t much time to get to know his fellow classmates. It would be better if he just waited.

Two minutes until the presentation, Kiyotaka decided to do a headcount. It looked like most of the students were there- but it was always good to make sure! If he was going to take his talent seriously, it would do well to spot those who were tardy to such an important event- it would help him single out which students might need a bit more persuasion to stick by the rules!

_ ….26...27...28...29.  _

Including him, that was thirty students in the entry hall. That left only two students missing- hopefully they’d arrive before the principal gave his speech, it would be dreadfully rude if they arrived in the middle of it! But, as the time for the speech grew ever closer, it unfortunately looked like that would end up being the case… if the missing students even attended the orientation at  _ all… _

 

* * *

 

At this rate, Mondo would  _ never  _ reach Hope’s Peak. 

He normally wouldn’t even care about getting there on time, but he’d heard that the campus was fucking gigantic, and he didn’t really fancy missing the school and getting lost like an idiot. Besides, he was supposed to actually be paying the bare minimum of attention to his schooling life this time. Because it’s what… what Daiya would have wanted him to do. Even if he had to leave the gang behind for a little while… they wouldn’t fall apart while he was gone, right?

If they did, Mondo would definitely have an excuse to beat someone up (even if that someone would probably be the newly-promoted Takemichi). He could feel his hands itching to punch something as he sat atop Takemichi’s shitty bike, currently stuck in the worst traffic he’d ever experienced. 

Fucking hell, why’d the school have to schedule the orientation on September 1st?! It was the day  _ everyone  _ went back to school, evident by the large amounts of anxious university students driving around Mondo in their stupid fucking cars. He could just swerve around them, but he didn’t trust Takemichi’s bike not to topple over, and he didn’t exactly fancy getting arrested on his first day at Hope’s Peak.

According to the map on his phone (one of the nicest things he owned), Hope’s Peak would be coming up on the next block. Which didn’t seem like too far, but with the speed this traffic was heading, it would take at least twenty minutes until he could pull into the parking lot. It was like the universe was actively  _ trying  _ to make Mondo late to school. First his bike, now this traffic… 

At this rate, it would be easier to just get off the road and  _ walk.  _ Mondo sighed, moving his bike forward another inch as the traffic moved slightly. Had someone actually crashed or something?! Mondo’s stomach lurched at that possibility, and he felt the faint urge to throw up. God, he hoped not. 

It was, as expected, twenty minutes before Mondo was able to park his bike at Hope’s Peak. Swearing under his breath, he parked Takemichi’s bike as quickly as he could, shoving the keys in his pocket and racing through the gates of the school. He didn’t have time to admire how impressive it was, or anything like that… it was nearly 8:30, and the orientation would almost be  _ over  _ by now! Fuck, he worrying about this like a complete nerd…

Mondo slammed open the doors of the entrance hall, breathing heavily. He was expecting a bunch of people to whirl around and stare at him like he was a dumbass, but to his surprise, nobody was even  _ there.  _ Did he get the wrong place? The wrong time?! The wrong fucking  _ day?!  _ Maybe. He knew he should have read through that acceptance letter a little more thoroughly, but he’d always been shitty at reading- he kept getting all the letters muddled up in his brain. 

A girl was standing in the corner of the room, looking like she’d rather be anywhere  _ but  _ here. Mondo contemplated walking up to her and asking where the orientation was- but he didn’t wanna sound like a complete idiot in front of her. Plus, it was an embarrassing enough question that it might cause him to get nervous, and then he’d yell at her and ruin  _ any _ chance of finding out where he was supposed to go. Luckily, fate seemed to  _ finally  _ be on his side, and the girl spoke before he could think of what to do.

“The tour’s started already,” she said, brushing a lock of lilac hair away from her face, “You can still catch up if you hurry. You  _ are  _ a member of one of the 78th classes, correct?” The girl turned to look over at him, and the first thing about her Mondo noticed was her  _ eye.  _ It was around the same colour as his- a milky purple- and for a second the dumber part of Mondo’s brain wondered if she was his long lost sister.

“Uh…” he muttered, dumbly, still slightly in shock, “...thought it was the 87th.”

The girl regarded him with a look that screamed ‘you’re fucking stupid’. Mondo blushed in embarrassment, and he felt the intense urge to either scream or punch something. The girl sighed, and her lips twitched into a smirk. 

“Not unless you’re nine years early,” the girl replied, before walking over to Mondo, “I can lead you to the tour if you want. I’m in your class anyway, so it’s not really that inconvenient for me to accompany you.”

Well, that was convenient. Thank god Mondo had managed to find this weird girl- wait a second, there were two classes, right? He didn’t tell her which one he was even  _ in _ , was she psychic or something? Mondo heard that there was meant to be the “Super High School Level Clairvoyant” attending in his class, or something like that… fuck, if she really  _ was  _ psychic, could she hear his thoughts?! Fuck, then she probably heard him worrying like a stupid fuck earlier!

Wait… she probably just knew because he was, very obviously, a gang member. Mondo snuck online on Takemichi’s computer once and found out there were entire forums posting about who was going to the school. It was… really creepy, actually, and made Mondo slightly nervous. He’d been on the list- it’d been a bit hard to read, but his name was definitely there- alongside a bunch of people with the weirdest talents he’d ever seen. Sure, some like the Super High School Level Swimmer or Baseball Star made sense, but there were others like the Super High School Level Affluent Progeny and Moral Compass (what the fuck were either of those talents meant to  _ mean?!) _ . 

Well, it didn’t really matter now. She led him out of the entrance hall and over to another building- maybe that was the dorm building, or something? Whatever it was, outside was a small group of students in various states of dress. Some of them, like an annoying-looking guy in the front- were dressed to the nines in their fancy-pants Hope’s Peak uniform. Others, like a cool-looking redhead Mondo could see himself becoming friends with, were dressed in whatever they pleased. There was even some weird chick in what looked to be a maid’s uniform or something.

Mondo was about to stand next to the redhead he’d spied, when a guy at the front whirled around, glaring at Mondo and the girl he’d come with. Mondo was immediately struck with a strange sense of deja-vu. He’d seen that guy’s face before, or at least something extremely  _ similar  _ to it. But where? A small spike of hatred ran through Mondo, and he preemptively decided that he’d probably end up hating this guy sometime during the year.

And then he opened his mouth, and Mondo decided that time was  _ now. _

“You two must have been the missing students at the orientation!” he snapped, “It is very unprofessional for you two to be so tardy for the introductory service, even if-” The kid suddenly choked up, eye going wide as he stared at the girl next to Mondo. What the fuck? Was he suddenly clamming up because he realised he’d been yelling at a hot chick instead of a couple of dumbass guys?  

Mondo took the jackass’s silence as a blessing, and slid over next to the redhead, like he’d been trying to do in the first place. Mondo idly wondered if the tightass who’d called him out was going to have a stroke or something, what with the way he was slowly turning the colour of a stoplight. Mondo looked away, wishing he could just get to his dorm already so he could  _ sleep.  _ Suddenly, two months’ worth of sleepless nights were catching up on him, and he just wanted to pass out or something. 

“Nice job making that guy shut up,” the guy next to Mondo mumbled, “It was so fucking annoying to listen to him try and talk to us after orientation, ‘specially when he just talked about shit like  _ politics. _ ” Mondo was suddenly glad that he had missed orientation- listening to that motherfucker jabber about boring shit like that might have made him completely lose it. 

“Glad I missed it,” Mondo said, and the guy next to him snickered.

“I like you. Name’s Kuwata if you didn’t already know. You?”

“Oowada,” Mondo replied. Kuwata… that name was sorta familiar. He’d heard a couple members of the gang talking about a guy named Kuwata once- apparently he was a big name in the sports scene, though Mondo never really payed attention to that. He hadn’t really bothered reading the names of his fellow classmates on the forums, but this guy was probably either the swimmer or the baseball guy. He looked a bit too wimpy to be the martial artist.

Kuwata was a pretty good conversation partner, Mondo soon figured out. He found out the guy wanted to be some sort of punk rocker, which Mondo thought was a pretty sick career path. He didn’t listen to much music, but he and Kuwata did have a pretty good talk about karaoke, which they both had at least a passing interest in. It was easy to ignore what the tour guide was saying when he had someone more interesting to focus on. 

They did end up getting shown to their dorms, and were allowed an hour to “settle in”. Mondo immediately made a beeline to his bed- Kuwata had promised to tell Mondo where everything was after the tour, so he didn’t have to suffer through any more of it. Thank god for him, and thank god for how comfortable the beds were here. Much better than the stupid mattress Mondo was used to.  
  
He was asleep in a matter of minutes.


End file.
